


A Circlet of Dwarves

by Erviniae



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2013-08-22
Packaged: 2017-12-24 08:24:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/937773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erviniae/pseuds/Erviniae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Dwarven party arrives in Rivendell and Lindir tries to find a little time for his mate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Circlet of Dwarves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [larienelengasse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/larienelengasse/gifts).



Title: A Circlet of Dwarves  
Author: Erviniae  
Rating: PG13  
Fandom: LOTR  
Pairing: Glorfindel/Lindir  
Warnings: AU, M/M  
Senior Beta: Aglarien  
Junior Beta: Nienna_Weeper  
Disclaimer: No profit is being made from this story.  
LOTR belongs to Tolkien and his Estate.  
Summary: A Dwarven party arrives in Rivendell and Lindir tries to find a little time for his mate.  
Author’s Note: Written for Sultry in September 2013  
Requester: larienelengasse  
Rating up to = R  
Requested pairing = Options: Gildor/Glorfindel, Gildor/Legolas, Gildor/Erestor, Lindir/Glorfindel, Erestor/Legolas, Elladan/Elrohir, Elladan/Glorfindel, Elrohir/Lindir  
Story elements = friendly banter, heroism, domesticity, humor, romance  
Do NOT include = fluff, rape, abuse, bdsm, mpreg, overly effeminiate or handwringing elves

 

A Circlet of Dwarves  
  
The Dwarves were led to Imladris through the secret pass by Gandalf. Lindir, the Seneschal of Imladris, walked down the steps that led to the courtyard, in the way only Elves can walk - with elegance, grace and haughtiness combined. Greeting Lindir warmly, Gandalf inquired as to the whereabouts of Elrond, Lord of Imladris.  
  
“My Lord Elrond is not here,” Lindir replied to the questioning Gandalf. No sooner had he spoken those words when a horn resounded, signaling the return of the scouting party. Leading the party was Lord Elrond in full battle armor, a handful of his most trusted warriors with him. The Dwarves became nervous and went into a defensive mode, pulling together as if for battle.  
  
Unseen by the Dwarves, Elrond circled his finger in the air, indicating to his trained warriors to surround the Dwarves for show. They did so in a flourish, as Lindir looked on with a twinkle in his eye and Gandalf gave him a wink. Glorfindel, banner held high, helmet absent and his golden locks flowing about him, smiled slightly as he passed Lindir for the second time on his faithful horse, Asfaloth.  
  
After greeting Gandalf warmly, Elrond handed Lindir his sword and spoke directly to his seneschal. “Prepare a feast for our new company; I shall bathe at once.”  
  
“Yes, my lord,” nodded Lindir, taking the sword with him into the house with reverence. He was amazed at the complete and utter trust his lord always bestowed upon him. He knew he had earned it, for he had known Elrond since Lindon, when Lindir was Seneschal to the High King Gil-Galad. He and Elrond had become fast friends, and when the fateful day came that saw their beloved king slain, Elrond had asked for Lindir’s fealty to him. He gave it to Elrond readily.  
  
After putting his lord’s sword safely away, Lindir began to see to the preparations necessary for their impromptu dinner guests, as well as to find accommodations for all. After seeing that his lord’s bath was drawn by the chamber maiden, Lindir found he had a few minutes to himself.  
  
Walking towards his rooms, he stopped in front of the familiar door and smiled. A deep baritone resonated in song from the other side of the door. Sighing heavily, already annoyed at the turn of the day’s events, Lindir opened the elegantly carved, yet deceptively light, wooden door to behold the sight before him. His mate sat upon the end of their burgundy divan, in dusty clothes that he wore under his armor, cleaning his boots no less, with one of Lindir’s shirts! Feeling his ire rise to the surface, Lindir was about to explode into a tirade with said mate because not only did he now have to oversee the running of every mundane detail in the valley, he also had to feed Dwarves! His face twisted in disgust as the first words began to form on his tongue when his mate looked up sheepishly with those damnable blue eyes and smiled that slightly crooked smile at him.  
  
“I know, I know, I should not be cleaning my boots here, but I didn’t want to let the dirt cake on, and I wanted to be done before you came back, because I didn’t want you to throw a fit seeing them in a corner dirty somewhere or perhaps shoved under the bed.” Glorfindel spoke quickly, a sheepish grin at the corners of that very kissable mouth.  
  
Sighing audibly and relaxing his shoulders, Lindir resigned himself to loosing this battle in the ongoing war of messiness that was his life with his love. How could he argue with that face or with the light that radiated about him or those muscular thighs? Shaking his head visibly, he walked over to the divan and sat abruptly.  
  
“Dwarves, eh?” Glorfindel asked in recognition of his mate’s thoughts.  
  
“Dwarves,” agreed Lindir.  
  
“Can you imagine what is caught up in those hideous beards?” Glorfindel feigned disgust then laughed.  
  
“Did you see the look of fear upon their craven faces as we encircled them with our horses in the courtyard? You would have thought we were a band of Orcs instead of Elves who had just slain the filth that was after their wee legs!” Laughing, Glorfindel stood, placed his now clean boots in the corner and walked the few steps back to Lindir’s side and held out his hand.  
  
Taking the hand offered to him, Lindir stood effortlessly. “How many were there?” Lindir‘s face showed his concern for his mate’s adventures.  
  
“A dozen or more.” Glorfindel answered truthfully.  
  
“How many were slain?” Lindir turned to face his husband.  
  
“A dozen. The rest ran,” Glorfindel replied matter-of-factly, while pulling his mate closer by the shoulders, but not before taking a stray lock of dark hair and pulling it to his lips to kiss.  
  
Lindir watched those lips with intense interest and soon found himself pressed against the strong chest of his warrior. “Always the hero,” he spoke with awe in his voice as he kissed the soft lips before him.  
  
Glorfindel pressed further for more, opening the lips which were on his for further exploration. Granting entrance to that delightful tongue, Lindir found himself being thoroughly kissed. The tingling started deep within his belly as it always did and he heard himself sigh blissfully at the sensation. Glorfindel let out a deep moan while grabbing Lindir’s slender hips to move them into position and grind his awakening arousal against that of his mate’s, his hands now rubbing that pert behind roughly.  
  
Lindir grabbed a fistful of Glorfindel’s hair, kissing him wildly, but found his mouth beginning to taste of a salty, metallic liquid. Pulling back in inquiry, Lindir noticed blood trickling down Glorfindel’s face from his forehead.  
  
“My love, you are hurt!” Lindir exclaimed, examining Glorfindel’s face for the source of the wound. Glorfindel began to smile as he saw the cause of the blood.  
  
’Whatever could be humorous?’ Lindir thought as he frowned.  
  
“Your circlet…it’s from your circlet…” Glorfindel smirked, pointing to his husband’s circlet of office. Lindir took off the circlet for examination. Sure enough, there was blood on the front of it. Lindir’s circlet had broken the skin on Glorfindel’s face during their amorous kissing.  
  
Glorfindel went to clean up his face.  
  
“Oh, my love, I am so sorry,” Lindir took the cloth Glorfindel had brought and began to help clean him up.  
  
“I am fine, stop fretting, but here, let’s clean this up for you.” Glorfindel took the circlet from Lindir’s hand and carefully cleaned all traces of blood from the intricate weaving.  
  
A knock was heard on their door. “Master Lindir? Master Lindir?” was the inquiry from the other side. Calanon, one of Lindir’s apprentices, was about to knock again when the door opened wide.  
  
“Yes?” Lindir sighed, annoyed at the intrusion.  
  
“Lord Elrond says you are to oversee an early dinner for our Dwarven guests.” Calanon appeared nervous. He hated bothering Lindir in his quarters.  
  
“Yes, I know of this,” Lindir said, annoyed.  
  
“Lord Elrond wishes for you to come at once...to his personal gardens…at once.” Calanon faltered on his words. Lindir sighed heavily and nodded his agreement. Closing the door behind him he thought about how he needed to speak to Calanon about his manner.  
  
Turning, he looked towards his husband. “Glorfindel, I…”  
  
“I heard. Go, we will finish this tryst later.” Glorfindel smirked as he sauntered over to him. Lindir gulped his reply because as he had been at the door, Glorfindel had removed all but his leggings.  
  
“Why yes, later…” Lindir fumbled for words as he headed for the door.  
  
“My love, aren’t you forgetting something?” Glorfindel held up Lindir’s circlet.  
  
“My hero,” Lindir blushed and kissed his husband quickly, as Glorfindel tenderly put the circlet upon his head. A pat to his behind sent Lindir out the door.  
  
Glorfindel shook his head in mirth at their attempted intimacy. He eagerly awaited Lindir’s return. He decided he would pamper his mate that night in any way that he could. 

  


The End

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sultry in September 2013.  
> Requester: larienelengasse  
> Rating up to = R  
> Requested pairing = Options: Gildor/Glorfindel, Gildor/Legolas, Gildor/Erestor, Lindir/Glorfindel, Erestor/Legolas, Elladan/Elrohir, Elladan/Glorfindel, Elrohir/Lindir  
> Story elements = friendly banter, heroism, domesticity, humor, romance  
> Do NOT include = fluff, rape, abuse, bdsm, mpreg, overly effeminiate or handwringing elves


End file.
